The Unknown Hero
by Marcurio'sPrincessXxo
Summary: There is a song to be sung for every hero.. but who sings for the ones that remain unknown? (T for cursing and violence) * Reviews, follows, and fav peeps! ;)
1. Chapter 1

_**"The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn"**_

The girl stood in horror, still trying to figure out what the noise was she had just made. She looked back at the man that had been knocked back, and it seemed he was unconscious.

What felt like fire nipped at her flesh, as she watched from a distance the dragon's body engulfing in flames.

_Oh my.. _

The colours of deep oranges and red swirled its way too her, also throwing her back from the impact.

She had only screamed in fear, but it stripped the very thing's life! Was it a shout? ..But that loud? She looked up into the pouring rain, allowing the drowsiness to be an excuse to sleep. A low rumble beneath the soil shook. "_Dovahkiin?" _

She had fainted.

* * *

The girl was being shrugged from her deep slumber, three men hovering overhead speculating as if she was an ancient artifact.

She sat up, heady swimming from moving too quickly. "Where am I?" She then tried standing, but one man gently nudged her back down, shaking his head as if for a, 'No'.

"Where am I?" She barely whispered, and if the man wasn't already in her face, he probably wouldn't have heard it.

"High Hrothgar." He mumbled under his long beard, the young woman straining to hear that.

"Who are you people?" She asked, causing frowns among the others.

"The Greybeards," He continued speaking, not allowing her to question further. "You do you know what you killed back in Rorikstead, don't you?"

She wasn't quite sure if that was was a happy tone or not. A simple question or a judged mistake. "Uh.. I honestly have not a clue.."

"But you do know something happened when you killed it, correct?"

"No.." She stopped, _her _brow furrowing when plucking out the details was becoming too much of a headache. "I mean, sure, this weird fire.. thing hit me pretty hard. It was enough to send me flying back.. then, I guess, I passed out because I don't remember getting here."

He nodded, "Thank you." the widening of his white beard signaling a smile. They backed a few feet away from the bed, whispering to each other frantically.

She felt a bit panicked as they rummaged through old, torn books: pointing and scribbling notes on empty pages. The same man that had spoken earlier left the room, returning later with an even bigger -and what seemed heavier- novel.

"Says here," He loudened for everyone in the room to hear. "That many fine scholars had searched into there being more _Dovahkiin's_, but to no prevail had they found any others," He looked up from his reading. "Until you. You know what this means, don't you? It means you are _Dovahkiin_." He clasped his hands in awe. Witnessing something truly extraordinary.

The history dawned on her. She had been told stories all those nights in bed; of Tiber Septim, who is now known as Talos.. and how many of his kin were half mortal, half man.

"But sir, I am not of the Septim's family,"

The cloaked monk gave a strange look to the other cloaked strangers who had remained quiet the whole time.

"Right?"

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The boy hooked his arm under his sister's, the two roughing it up with their ebony swords.

"If Father knew of those, I'm very sure that your neck's would be wrung." Their younger sister warned, too busy reading the news for further critism.

The two ignored the little cretin as usual. They were eighteen -this very morning to be exact-! No one could tell them what to do; except their Mama of course.

Their "Father" was but a distant memory, for he never left his room any more. Of what it seemed to others, he was just too busy groping about how his deceased parents left him hardly any money in their inheritance. But if you saw their Manor, you would not think money was an issue!

The girl couldn't quite remember what he looked like, but their mother said the two were a 'spitting image' of the man.

They're twins so of course they shared the same features, the thick blonde locks with a hint of brown at the roots, eyes as blue as ice -if there was such a color-, and noses that were awfully round at the tip for ideal Nord's hooked honkers. As most Nords', they have wide shoulders and a stout chest; abs even babes make for a common look, so of course an eighteen year old male would have that, but female? ..No, no.

"Dovan, Kine, dears would you go wash up for breakfast?" Their mother smiled, entering with a platter with plates of eggs and fresh baked bread on it. "Now don't think, just because it's your birthday, I'm going to let you use those swords!" She chuckled, placing the plates in front of the seats. She started to hum as they raced up the stairs to the washbin.

"Dovan?" The girl asked her brother, who hovered a good foot above her, "I must tell you before I forget: but do you know that I heard papa crying in his room the other day? He was talking to himself, no doubt, but kept referring to some Talos character."

"Talos was Tiber Septim.. you do know that, right?"

"Of course I do! I mean really, Dovan, I know a good bit about our heritage.." Her eyes were rolled. "Anyways, he was asking "Talos" why he'd be allowing the the elves to come.."

Dovan stopped scrubbing the crusted sleep off to look up, "You mean High Elves?" His brow furrowed as she shrugged.

"How am I to know I just heard him say 'the Elven folk'."

"Well you shouldn't have heard at all! It's not polite to eavesdrop!"

Her mouth clamped shut, allowing him to get the message she was done with the conversation.

He frowned. "I'm sorry, but I honestly am not understanding how these elves will be making an appearance any time soon-"

Screams echoed below them, steel and iron gruesomely slicing throughout the house. Kine's eyes widened as they looked up at Dovan, a squeaked, 'What?' muffling her throat.

Bronzed armored troops stood over her sister and mother's lifeless bodies, the tall men and women looking around for other lives to ruin. Kine could feel the screams burn at the back of her throat, but if she allowed them to come out, it'd be a definite death wish.

"Set it on fire." One ordered the other, hand signaling the heartless notion.

Dovan felt the heat rise to his cheeks. All was a blur! This was supposed to be another day with his family whom he loved dearly, now he was watching that be slaughtered away. He grabbed Kine's hand and tried his best to find a room to where they could successfully hide. "No! We must find a way out!" He croaked, stumbling among the hallway's furniture.

The flames rose up to the high ceiling, it's igneous tongue hungry for more home to devour. Two men had made their way up the not-so-grand-anymore staircase, and were telling the others of the twins' escape plan.

An arrow went piercing through the air and struck Kine's shoulder, only a scratch but still painful. She cried out in but pressed on, the run stretching further and further to the tall window at the end of the hall. A room at the end was blasted open, their father emerging out. His eyes squinting at the sight of his life crashing down before him. Dovan cried out for him to break through the window, but another arrow went flying, this time striking their father. It gruesomely delved it's way into his skull, Kine vomiting cries of sorrow for the cold blooded murder they had just witnessed.

He stopped when another stray snaked in between his legs. "STOP!" He screamed, the men obeying as their eyes bugged at his bold move. "Why are you doing this?" Dovan cried, his hand squeezing Kine's to a purple.

"We're here to kill you sorry, Talos worshiping, fools!" A female soldier spat, the man beside her quickly put his hand up to stop her from going further.

"You think we worship Talos!? We worship none of the Divines, how could you so falsely accuse!?" Kine stammered, the heat from the fire becoming overwhelming.

The High Elf smirked, "We're here to simply teach you Septims a lesson. And what better way than killing the last of them off?"

Dovan cried out in warning as the burnt timber came crashing down in slow motion. There it tumbled on top of the two elves, sickening cracks drowned out by the moans of the toppling Manor.

Kine could feel the searing pain lick away at her back and legs, watching as her brother had pushed her down as he shouted strange words befor sprinting out towards the window. He was abandoning her leaving her there to die while he dove for safety.

Watching as she lost senses of the crackles around her. Losing knowledge of what she had just encountered. Everything was a blur: her name, family.. _life_.

_Everything._


	2. Chapter 2

The townsfolk shifted through the rubble of what looked like an abandoned shack. They were only hoping for goods or preserved gold, anything to aid in their financial debt.

An innkeeper came to that disintegrated home, with his son, only having hopes to find enough money to suit him in armor; it was Erik's only wish.

But it was the boy that found her, her long blonde hair, tangled and matted across her bloodied forehead, shining through the grey smut. He grimaced at burnt marks that ran up her barely clothed body.

"Oh no!" Erik shouted, his friend running up to see what was the matter.

Mralki, Erik's father -the innkeeper- tilted her head gently to feel for a pulse.

Which came.

All the townsfolk that had surrounded the three let out their sighs of relief, while Mralki shook her lightly to wake her up.

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Kine's senses were no longer with her, the shake causing her concussion's throb to intensify.

She let out a moan, hearing a sigh above her. Her eyes flashed open, gathering her surroundings which helped little in trying to find out what was going on.

A boy, whose hair was brighter than Skyrim's sunsets, stood gaping in awe. The balding man whom held her in his arms, smiled down at her as her dumb look increased.

She tried standing but failed miserably.

"Now, now child, can you tell me your name?" He soothed, patting her crusted hair gingerly.

She had to think long and hard on this. "I'm not too sure, to tell you the truth."

"Oh?" The man frowned, looking up at the red- head. "Erik, bring the horses over. She'll be riding home with us."

'Erik' smiled sadly, nodding, and headed in the other direction to where the steeds began neighing as he came closer.

"Home? Where is my home? I don't even know you!" Her tone was frantic, her helplessness killing the elder.

"Calm down, girl! I don't know.. I'm guessing this _was _your home."

She looked around, frowning. No? This couldn't be.. could it? Home was a distant ring in the back of her mind. Well, a lot of things were.

"My name is Mralki. M'boy's Erik, we own Frostfruit Inn a few miles up from here." She looked around at the rubble, her heart beginning to pound even faster. She was lost in her own mind, nowhere to go now but with these people and yet death in this pile of nothing seemed a better fate.

"So.. up the road?"

"Aye, don't worry, dear, we'll take care of you!"

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

How on Nirn did that happen!? He sprinted out the window, "_WUUL!_"

"I need to find help!" He told no one.

He searched for a few minutes to find a simple guard, but to no prevail. He watched from a distance as the flames ate up his beloved home.

_His very being.._

His shout ripped at his throat, screaming until it was just too damn painful. Tears ran down his smooth face, rubbing them away with great force. Harsh sobs began to take over his abdomen.

What now?

He watched as travelers or townspeople ran past him, no one knowing he was a member of the Manor that was slowly unfolding. H

He tried speaking to someone, _anyone_, but his voice would not come. He was "mute", if you want to call it that.

He was hurt! Why would Talos do this!?

Bitterness swallowed him whole: Talos did this.


	3. Chapter 3

Dovan traveled through the Reach.

He had found several bandit camps to "side with" and slit their throats during the night once their trust had been gained.

How easy the adrenaline of death made his heart pump, actual chills running up his spine when the life would pale away.

Yet, there was still the faint ache in his heart. It yearned for something that couldn't be fulfilled.

The Thalmor killed his family, Talos a willing standby.

How?

He couldn't grasp it. He had searched for days; old books from known authors or the newest from a fresh face: all telling of Talos' venomous lies or his splendid wonders. He slammed _The Talos Mistake_ into the fire, the flames eager to swallow his bitterness.

He rubbed at his pulsating temple, only to make them worse.

"Trouble?" Came a husky voice, Dovan looking up to see a woman. He frowned, trying his hardest to rip his gaze away from her revealed cleavage.

"No, I'm fine."

She laughed, the roughness of her voice almost soothing. "I've heard better lies from Skjor..''

He snorted, his rage bubbling up to his throat. "Now I don't know who you, or the Skjor fellow, are.. but I think it'd be best if you left my camping grounds."

She stiffened, her war-painted face darkening. "My, my, you're in it deep aren't you?" She raised her hands in surrender. "I'll take my leave."

He watched her turn, yet he felt the need to stop it. "Don't.." His voice barely a whisper.

She turned back, the look in her eyes softer. This stranger was more a friend in the few minutes he's known her than the ones he's been around his entire life. She cared.. and that was a new experience.

"You're hurting, I can smell it." She frowned, sitting on the log beside him.

Dovan laughed, unaware of her seriousness. "What's your name, stranger?"

"I'm known as Aela the Huntress, but I've always preferred just Aela,"

The name rolled of his tongue, "Aela? I'm Dovan.

"Dovan Martin Sep, erh.. just Dovan."

* * *

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Kine suffered the burns greatly, them beginnign at her shoulders and down to her lower back. It remained numb for a few days, before the _real _pain hit.

Erik rubbed the healing potion on it once every other day, causing nothing but severe dry skin.

"You're sure you put enough Brisstlewort in it?" His father asked him.

"I'm sure, it said three crushed."

Mralki nodded at the correct amount, but frowned at it's lack of help for the child.

They talked quite hushed about her at night when she had passed out over the exhausting racks of pain she sobbed through. Erik would sit by her, rubbing her head until the helplessness became to emotional.

"I'd say she's your age, my boy," Mralki had said one night over dinner. "Looks it, or maybe a good year younger."

Erik sighed, before dipping his spoon into the Venison Soup he had made. "Doesn't matter how old or young she is, none deserves that kind of pain. I just feel so bad for her, ya know?"

Mralki frowned, handing Erik a cloth for the grease on his chin. "Oh, I know."

"She's a pretty lass, do you think so, Pa?"

Mralki nodded, replaying her features. "If that's your taste, then yes."

* * *

Erik snored _very _loudly, the clinking of septims not enough to drown out the nasally ruckus.

He felt for the boy. He knew of his hatred for the village, wishing he had enough money to let him fulfill his overly said wish to leave and become a mercenary.

He understood! For there was nothing going on or to be done in this four housed town! Not even a descent girl.. but ya know.. it seems that she may be sleeping in his very inn..

...

He'd have to sleep on that matter, but he did hope she'd come around by morning.

* * *

He heard his name be called but continued to run.

"Hey Elf!" He screamed, unsheathing his weapon faster than his feet.

"Dovan don't!" Aela cried, watching as his blade swiped up his groin to what used to be his head.

His eyes showed nothingness, of what Aela could tell. He was a shell, bitter swallowing him up, leaving the startled brunette in his dust.

He did it because he could. The rush was back and what a better target than a lowlife like that? It helped, for the running made his heart beat instead of ache.

Yet, running led him to his death, stumbling across the war between the Red and the Blue.


	4. Chapter 4

The hoe deepened beneath the soil, plucking the dirty potato from it's hiding place. Erik sighed, sleeve dabbing up the sweat caused by the intense sun.

His thoughts were heavy and he missed his best friend. Lokir had left the beginning of the week, where he didn't say, all he mentioned was making a better life for himself. How life would drag by without that brute in his life. He frowned again before hacking away at the weeds.

"Feeling alright?" He called to the woman hiding under the shaded porch, causing her to jump a little. "Will you be wanting a drink soon?"

She smiled, setting her book down to watch him never take his eyes off his chores. "That does sound nice, but I'll get them. You're the one working, hon."

His stomach flip-flopped with her nickname. He watched her now, watching as her fabric lifted from once pooling around her, floating to the inn that held the welcoming, icy beverages.

"Thanks!" He squeaked, her hand waving in answer.

All in the village searched but found nothing. This woman was truly an alien; no name, background to unfold clues of who she is or where she came from. Rorick calls her 'Flower' since she has blossomed these past few months. She liked that, Erik too, so it was stuck with her.

"My dear, Flower," He teased, accepting the jazberry juice. "How on Nirn did I survive before you came along?"

She laughed, "Oh, trust me, I wondered that myself."

Before he could return a flirt a roll of deafening thunder sounded overhead them, rain following. Erik shuddered at the cold drops, watching as big shadows covered the sky.

"That came out of nowhere!" He choked, lightning shooting across now.

"Let's get in!" She suggested, pulling on his hand.

He was staring off, pointing at the big object behind her.

"What is that?" He whispered, his face in a contorted grimace.

Her back stung with the agony of turning around to face what it was that had Erik in this state.

The teeth made a disgusting clashing noise as they clamped in intimidation. The fire it spit at the two kindled a furious memory: how it surrounded her as the last thing she saw was the hooded man run out with the two troops. The tail knocking her flat on her back reminded her of the pain of timber crumbling on top of her.

Her screams pierced through the demon, it's remains falling to the ground. The thunderous cry stopped the storm that had started, making the dragon's scales crackle as they went up in flames to swirl their way inside of her.

It was too late for her to hear the Great Shout called her name.

* * *

His bum was numb, hands bound, and mouth gagged. His head throbbed and eyes remained fuzzy from the deep sleep that was interrupted from the bickering of two men.

"Yes, because you've done nothing wrong to be on this carriage, horse thief." The rugged blonde hissed, eyes rolling in disgust.

The horse thief pouted. "Could've been half way to Hammerfell, but noooo, you just _had _to bring up your stupid Talos worship with the Empire."

Empire? Why weren't they in Cyrodiil?

"What's his problem, huh?" The no-longer-pouting man asked, only to get another strike from the platinum snake.

"Mind yoursef,_ boy_," He spat. "That is Ulfric Stormcloak.. Jarl of Windhelm! The true High King. "

He stopped dead on, realizing Dovan's eavesdropping. He nudged his enemy's shoulder. The two's eyes were ablaze with curiosity as they searched for the courage to begin.

"So.. you're awake! You were caught trying to cross the border, right?" The Nord asked.

Dovan nodded, gagging from the taste of the moldy cloth.

"You tried to rip men apart.. my men and even the Imperials. You, er, screamed? Shouting at some, knocking them clear out of your path. The Empire managed to stop you.. hence your state."

"Shut up, back there!" And 'Imperial' called over his shoulder, causing Ulfric to grunt in disgust.

A large gate opened ahead, a chilling squeak echoing throughout the vast land. Soldiers in all different colors, uniforms, walked on the bridge above. Guards nodded at the ill-tempered Snake, frowning at what he now was to them. He was nothing now. Nothing but a stranger.

Stranger..

"I knew these men, we grew up together.." He laughed. "It's sad, really, these walls use to make me feel so.. "safe" now I'm here in the unsafest manner."

If Dovan could have frowned he would have. He pitied his hurt. It.. hurt! This man worshiped Talos as well, and look where it got him.

To his death! Talos didn't care that they fought in his name, he still doesn't care now, he wants people to suffer from his power trip.

_Power.. hah! You call that power? More like an ego freak. _He thought.

"Why did they stop?" Thief asked, eyes beginning to bug in pure terror.

"Why do you thing," The Stranger sighed, looking at Dovan for comfort. "End of the line."

Dovan's heart sunk.

"Bu- but we're not with you! Tell them that!"

He knew it would happen, but by the Eight this soon!? Why is death so eager to swallow him up? What on Nirn has he done to deserve all of this? Certainly nothing that terrible.

The exited the carriage, dust clouding in their face as their feet punched the ground.

This Jarl character was the first to go. His soldiers all giving their condolences and thanks for the fights fought in his honor.

"Ralof of Riverwood." Said an Imperial with a list, nodding a last goodbye to the Snake.

"Imperials love their damn lists," He spat, cutting daggers at the female Legate.

The list-keeper continued. "Lokir of Rorikstead?"

The Thief shook, head shaking his head firmly. "NO! I'm not a rebel!"

The fool started running, Dovan watching in horror. He felt the cloth slip, just enough to speak..

**_"TIID KLO UL!"_ **He shouted, everything slowing to an abrupt stop, yet his speed remaining the same.

The sword of the Legate was taken, decapitating her head in response. He kept the list-keeper. Lokir was pushed down so the archer's could miss. He turned and..

BOOM!

Knocked straight on his back by the rocks that began falling, a lizardous demon circling around him. It looked down at him, strangely comforting with the way it's eyes roared with vengeance. It nodded his head to the left, where a door was unguarded. Ralof and Lokir remained in their steps, Dovan grabbing on to them to, running them to safety.

It the gods won't help them, than he will.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I hate it that I have no time to update! I'm sorry! :L**

* * *

Dovan could feel their stares, the hot glares tingling the back of his neck.

Hushed whispers strained his ears, and long walks to nowhere made his ankles ache. Where they were he didn't know, but he didn't want to ask the wimps behind him either. It was a nice gesture, saving them and all, but he's now having second thoughts on future travels together.

Nightfall was grazing across the sky lines, which meant wolves would be coming out to place soon after. The twinkling green and blue lights swirled overhead, a quiet reminder of the simplicity his life no longer carries. He sighed heavily, allowing himself to face the men he'd saved.

They stopped in their tracks when he made eye-contact. "Look," He began, his tone remaining rather calm. "I'd think it best if I took you two home,"

Lokir interrupted. "We can't go back there! What if the Empire is trying to find us? They know where we're from, I doubt they'll hesitate killing us right in front of our families-"

Dovan's icy glare showed no signs of giving a shit. His left eye began twitching, and head hadn't stopped pounding since he woke up a few hours ago, so the very sound of voices were whined nags. "You need to go back there.. trust me; they're not going to be _that_ stupid and come looking for you."

Ralof nodded in agreement, though his grimaced face gave way to unsureness. "You're right, but we can't go to Riverwood.. it's too close to Helgen and others who survived may be headed ther-"

Ralof stopped when hearing the growls of their savior. "There are _no _survivors, Ralof!" He brought his attention back to the horse- thief. "Do you have family? You're from Rorikstead, right? I know that way."

"Aye, a sister in Whiterun, and friends in Rorikstead."

"Rorikstead it is then." And he turned back to start off on their very long journey, and the moon was giving perfect lighting.

A few feet down the dirt path and there were distant rustling in the trees. Ralof made a whimpering noise, causing a crazed spin from Dovan.

"What is it!?" He asked, eyes spanning wildly.

"I heard it too," Lokir said, pointing down into the deep brush, "It was in the forest.."

"Come out, now!" Dovan shouted, speeding up the breeze that rustled the branches.

Two women crept through the thicket, one in red the other in blue, it seemed obvious that they were battered from the recent attack, but Dovan didn't remember seeing their faces among the crowd. "Hello." He sighed, unsheathing the Legate's weapon.

The women allowed themselves to sob into the arms of the Snake and the Thief, the whimpers of females only made Dovan's frown deepen in annoyance.

"What are your names?" Lokir asked, rubbing Blue's shoulder in hopes to console.

"Greta," Wailed the blue.

"Amelia," Sighed the red.

"We're sisters." They said at once, outstretching their hands to fall into a dramatic hug and dried tears.

Dovan eyed this suspiciously, for their behaviors were becoming more rehearsed than genuine, but nonetheless he allowed them to accompany their trip to Rorikstead. How odd is it that sisters were on two different sides of the war, and allowed themselves to be seen together wearing those uniforms? Very odd, but he could have cared less if they were forsaken'd lovers or long lost twins..

Twins; now that _did _sting a little..

* * *

Half a week and they had made it to Rorikstead. It was painfully quiet, and the light patter of the rain made everyone drowsy. Everyone.. except Lokir apparently. He ran up to a large building, hooping and hollering different things until an older man -with two little girls at his side- peeped outside to see what the fuss was about. By the pointing of his finger he gave direction to a more important patron, Lokir then bolting inside to another bulding which was an inn.

He held the door open to beckon his crew to follow. They did so, but feet were too sore to move as fast as the Thief had just done.

A man with the hair like a sunset stood behind the counter, face brightening even more so when the rowdy man bouncing in was his very mid-life-crisis'd friend. "Lokir!? What on Nirn.. wha- how did you- are you alright!?" Then turning his looks of confusion to the battered clan of misfits that stunk to high Sovngarde, "Who are these folk?"

Dovan introduced himself, then, realizing that was rude, introduced the girls and Ralof. The ginger's name was Erik, and by the looks of his furrowed brow, other things were more important on his mind than learning a couple of escapee's names.

"That's good." He strangely put, starting off on his chores again. Lokir couldn't help but look back at his new friends for help. Erik was acting very odd indeed.

"Looks like I should be the one asking. Are you alright, Erik?"

Erik nodded, eyes holding the brim of his nose as if to fight off on oncoming headache. "You didn't happen to see a girl on your journey, did you?"

The breath that was drawn in was very shaky.

"She looked an awful lot like you.." His finger pointed sharply at Dovan, who squirmed a little in the seat he had just taken.

* * *

**Another A/N: Was wondering if anyone had caught on to the names I've chosen for the twins. _Dovahkiin_?Dovan..? Kine..? Huh.. HUH!?**


	6. Chapter 6

The draft was chilling, but none seemed to mind. If anything it was soothing to have something other than a blistering head ache and soar back from being bent over from all the prayers they had sent Kyne.

"So.. what exactly are we going to do with her?" Wulfgar's scruffy face was calm and tone hushed, he sat at the Table with the others; his worry directed towards Arngeir.

Arngeir opened his mouth to this, but was interrupted by Borri.

"Precisely! We've already recognized the rumors of there being a first Dragonborn.. now there's a supposed other!? I highly doubt that. If it were so, though, should _we _be the ones to tell her she may have a family she had not a clue of?"

Arngeir sighed heavily, his hands lightly drumming as if to help his clouded thoughts. Strange enough, Meditation was calling out to him, but knew that things were going to actually be done if they were discussed.  
"We do not even know if the first is alive, if her family is alive," He simply put, searching deep within the eyes of his brothers. "I feel that the amount of stress she has piled on her now, will be even worse times ten. There is another Dragonborn.. but we should come to terms -and accept them- that she is one also!"

They nodded in agreement.. well, all but one..

Wulfgar spoke up once more, "The war: how will we summon the first if not one can hear over the combat? These men are savaged beasts.. fools of war craft! They will not give up so easily just because they find out an old "fairy tale" is an awakened prophecy, I assure you."

Borri stood, his pale complexion intensifying, "By Kyne's mercy! She is not the 'prophecy'! If by luck she heard the Thu'um.. and we heard _the one_'s. She just happened to be there, nonetheless." His tone emphasized his exasperation. "Do you not remember our studies, Wulfgar? _Any_ of you? I simply remember the Prophecy reciting '_The Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn'_ Dragonborn.. as in one.. not two. How could this have happened?"

Arngeir's Voice quaked the very ground on which Borri stood, giving him the message to be quiet and preferably remain that way.. "_She_ is the last of the Septim bloodline.. as is the other _Dovahkiin_, I say.. if my accusations are correct: they share _more _than just blood.. but the very womb itself!"

"Twins?" They all echoed, glancing around at one another in astonishment.

"How on Nirn!? There hasn't been a single twin in the entire Septim Tree, what could have changed this?" Borri failed.. his reply more of a statement than an actual question.

"If I can put this the simplest way I know how, it'd be this: the young Martin Septim, throughout some time, worshiped the daedra. It could very be possible he had a child or two in that time, that may have produced an entire bloodline of Septims no one has ever heard of! For all we know a distant cousin could have married the girl's mother or father, causing very strong _Dovah _blood, which when the egg fertilized: produced twins."

Einarth, who had remained quiet the entire meeting, finally spoke up. "What I feel around her.. the aura of her _Dovah, _I'd have to agree with you. She radiates power.. and if not to take on the duties of removing Tamriel of the World-Eater.. then to end Tamriel of this petty battle. To choose her side and fight for her sibling's honor. If not that.. then what, Arngeir?"

_Then what? _He.. did not know..

**:::::::::**

None knew of the young woman's eavesdropping outside their Hall. The silent tears that fell for reasons unknown. Memories flooded.. but were they even true? I mean, was it her believing what these men were saying? Or was it believing what her _heart _was screaming?

She chuckled softly, whispering the only words she remembered the past months. "'What have I done before you came along?' ..I don't know.. but you're about to find out.."

**:::::::::**

****Einarth was the first to wake early that morning. He only went to simply lay eyes on the girl, for she had been in his prayers that night. But she was not there as he expected, a note resting on her night stand.

It read simply: _Thank you kindly for your generous time and hospitality, but I am very sure I can make it on my own from here. After reading several of your books -which I hope you don't mind- I have decided to go into the war and fight for the honor of my fellow Nords; and most importantly my Dragonborn. Where ever he/she is.. I have high hopes that I may find him/her. If this is truly my sibling.. my twin? Then I have not a doubt that he/she will more than likely be the first to find me. _

_With all of my gratitude and highest admiration, Flower._


	7. Chapter 7

The roaring bonfire did wonders to soothe his sore muscles from their long walk yesterday. A few ales down and he could finally allow small smirks of contentment wash over his freshly cleaned face.

He rolled his eyes in amusement as hushed sweets were whispered between Greta and Lokir, and Ralof and Amelia were making amends to leave the war with the war.

When the sun had finally set the people of Rorikstead brightened, celebrating their version of a New Life Festival. They all danced around the large crackling fire, laughing and singing along to the mediocre music: Lokir whistling away on an old wooden lute he had found, and Erik accompanying him by drumming along on some upturned pan. A few travelers that that had been headed to Markarth stopped by to enjoy in the jovial celebration.

All seemed right with the world.. well, right _now_ anyways..

Two little girls had decided to play at Dovan's feet. A doll or two being handed to him to join in their innocent games and brilliant smiles. He couldn't help but laugh with them as they'd fight over who would be the one to marry him when they were older.

A few sweetroll-sugar-crashed moments later and Britte and Sissel had made their way into Dovan's lap, him whispering a few words of a distant lullaby his mother would sing. Britte had fallen asleep and Sissel would look up at him occasionally, twirling the single braid he had tied in his hair, commenting on how odd it was that it felt like silk. He kissed her forehead before she fell asleep, head on his shoulder.

"Are you enjoying the New Life Festival?" a husky voice whispered above him.

Dovan looked up to find Aela smiling down at him, who apparently made a point to cover up some important areas this time. He smiled, adjusting a space for her to sit down next to him.

"Honestly had no clue today _was _the New Life Festival.. but I'd have to say I am, especially now that you're here with me," He looked over to her in shock. "How did you know I- why _are _you here?"

She had adjusted Britte on her lap and began nodding along with the music.  
Chuckling she looked over to him, "I live here. Or.. _lived _if you'd have me say that. It's actually been five years since I celebrated in my home town, I've always kind of stayed indoors as Whiterun celebrated."

"_Really_, now?" He cooed, "Why's that?"

"Just.. had some things more important that needed to be done."

"Ah, sadly I know nothing of the sorts. Always spent mine in silence, or rather with my sister. Hah! We actually snuck into our parents' wine cellar one year. Got so wasted.. and several whippings that hungover morning!" Dovan shrugged, "..Though I'd rather have that to do over and over again than be spending it without a family."

She smiled, reaching for his hand, and caressing it with her thumb, "I've said those same things many a time, Dovan. I've had so many reasons to never come back.. but I guess my older brother had me too tightly wrapped around his finger."

She watched his expression as he looked from Lokir and back to her. "So he's your brother, huh?"

"Yes. And you saved his life! I can never thank you enough. He's the only family I have left, and I don't know where I'd be if he was no longer in my life. He said you guys were going to be executed; Dovan, do you know what that would've done to me? My brother _and _you! I could never survive."

"Figures. I knew he favored someone's looks, that'd make sense it'd be you. You're the only person I know besides the people of Rorikstead."

She laughed, "I'd rather know only a couple of people than the ones I have to deal with everyday. Sometimes it's impossible to get some quiet time!"

"You prefer the silence?" His gaze left hers for the warmth of the fire, "I hate it. I hate it when the silence is so unbearable that my very ears shriek at the sound of life. What can I do to not feel so damn empty? I feel nothing at all, I'm pratically dead, Aela. I thought I had lost you.. and I had wished to be dead. Yet, here you are.. holding my hand.. and telling me your blissful wishes when they're my never ending hell. You _have _your brother, Aela, my sister is _dead_!"

He realized sobs were escaping and the twins were being sent home to their own beds. His heavy sigh told Aela to move closer, so she did. She reached over to wipe away his tears, humming a gentle, "Hush now," and smiling softly. She was sitting closer now, and her sweet breath filled his nostrils: hot Jazberry tea. Her smooth faced glowed in the fire's light, this being the first time Dovan had ever seen her without any war paint on. He like it, it made her look more natural.. and it didn't take away from her spunky attitude whatsoever! Her cheeks were so rosy, and she shone with pure beauty that when she smiled that smile.. it did something to his stomach, that made him want to..

She cleared her throat, and looked over to the faster tempo music echoing through the Reach's vast land. "I'd say you need a dance." She put simply, standing and holding her hand out to bring Dovan with her.

Color brightened his cheeks, and heat pricked at his neck. "No.. I can't-"

"Dovan, it's just moving your legs. I can't either.. and by the looks a lot of other people can't as well!"

They laughed together, placing their hands in one anothers to join the merry dances. Dovan twirled her dramatically, and cheers and whistles were thrown at the two. Aela began to move around in circles, hands going up in the air swaying from side to side. She hopped along by Dovan and Erik, eyes cutting over to give Dovan a mischievous grin. He took her hands once more, this time guiding, hands on her hips and pressed against her. She gasped, moving his hand off of her bottom and back to her back. He looked at her for the longest moment, lips pursing together and inching closer and closer.

"Thought you said you '_Couldn't' _dance!" She laughed, snapping her head back. Her fingers remained dancing along in his "silky", blonde hair.

He frowned slightly, bringing his head -and lips for that matter- at a respectful space between the two. "Just needed the right partner, I guess."

"I.. uh, thanks." She stopped, still holding a smile, though. She looked past him to the inn, rolling her eyes at the drunk Lokir being carried in by the kind strangers that'd be staying the night as well. "I'm gonna go help with him.. I'll see you in the morning." Blushing she brushed by him.

He stood still, failing at trying to catch a straight breath and stop his heart from fluttering the way it did. But then again, he liked the way it felt.

And liked the way Aela looked at him..

* * *

"Psst! Hey, are you awake?" The bed beside him whispered.

He rubbed his eyes before propping himself up on his elbow. "Not anymore.." He hissed.

"Sorry!" Erik apologized, sitting up in the bed to face Dovan. The moonlight shone through the cracks of the inn's roof, so it brightened their tired faces. "I just wanted to ask a few questions, because some things are adding up.. and it's beginning to scare me."

Dovan chuckled lightly, adjusting himself to mirror Erik. "Scaring you?"

"Yeah.. I mean.. where are you _even _from?"

"A used-to-be Manor a few miles away from here," His brows furrowed, "Why are you giving me that look?"

"That's where we found Flower! Though that's not her real name.. we don't know what her real name is.. we don't know anything about her."

"You found a girl in the ruins?" Dovan squeaked, standing and dusting his hair in dismay, "You mean you actually found her _alive_?"

"See, that's what I was starting to think. You look so much like her! And-"

"She- so Kine's actually alive? You actually found her alive? Where is she now? You've sent her away!"

Erik stood too, but just so he could sit Dovan at the table. Pouring the ale he began, "Listen, we never sent her away. Look, this.. _thing _came. It was a dragon, I'm sure of it! It knocked me out, so I passed out. Though, I slightly woke up to the rumbling of some strange_ word_ being said.. and then she was gone!"

"What was the word?" He was paling even more so. Though.. he felt he already knew what had happened to his sister. He's a Septim.. it had to be.

"I've talked to Pa about that.. it was '_Dovahkiin_'; but when I asked him what that meant he said it was _Dragonborn_."

_Gods above! Truly?_

"So, you're saying Kine is the chosen Prophecy to save us all? My _sister_?"

Erik huffed, "Well when you say it like that, of course it's going to sound absurd! It has to be the only reason the Greybeards would summon her. She must have been taken to High Hrothgar."

Dovan stood, shimmying out of his brown tunic. "Then I have to go!"

Lokir and Ralof had been sleeping on bedrolls by the door. Lokir sat up, looking rather exhausted and hungover, "We're leaving again?" He slurred, nudging Ralof, "Get up you big oaf, we're leaving!"

"No! No? I need to go do this on my own!" Dovan snapped, finger pointing down as if to tell them to go back to sleep. Ralof obliged but Lokir hit his shoulder, "No? What do you mean 'No'? Dovan, we're going with you. We're all in this together, and we look after our own."

"I'm coming too," Erik stated, beginning to fill a random knapsack with a few potions and food. "I care for her just as much as you do, Dovan."

"Adventuring is a dangerous thing," Dovan frowned, taking the knapsack from Erik's hands and placing it on his back.

"Yes, but only to a certain extent," Ralof interrupted, pulling on his Stormcloak armor, "But it's a good thing. A life without danger isn't really a life at all."

Lokir looked up at Dovan and sighed. "He's right," That caused Ralof to puff out his chest for proving a point.

The thought of wanting a bit of danger to live a life worth living was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Stupid.. but intriguing, all the same. It's better to live a life with a bit of excitement than sitting along all day, reading books about a certain "god" that doesn't give an ass' arse about anyone but himself, and his lavish living in "Sovngarde".

Lokir interrupted Dovan's thoughts, "We're better in a large group of numbers."

"Ok, you guys can come," He said, hooking the Legate's weapon on his back. "But you'll have to find your own weapon. I can't have you all unarmed.. to dangerous."

"Aela has some spares that can go unnoticed. You know Aela?" Lokir asked.

"Uh, yeah.. a little bit." He answered, trying his best not to watch Lokir's expression too closely.

He saw Ralof's mouth open then shut, Erik nudging him to not say anything. There eyes wide with 'Don't you dare flirt with his younger sister.. that's definitely a death wish', kind of look.

Lokir moaned slightly, "Can't we do all this in the morning? There is no way I can get out of this bedroll and let my nips get cold, no sir."

"No.. we- uh! Fine. We'll need some sort of strength to help us," Dovan said, lying his equipment beside his bed. "I'm tired anyways."

Lokir frowned, nodding and hoping he hadn't made him angry-er-. They all watched as he drifted to sleep, Ralof chuckling about how damn awkward he is, and Erik hitting him along side the head. "STOP! He'll kill you with his thumb!"

Ralof chuckled again, joining the Horse Thief's lead and climbing into the warm bedroll. "Well, then see you in the morning, boys."

Lokir saluted him and turned on his side.

Erik was still trying to figure out why he actually wanted to be around these weirdos.


End file.
